


Polaris

by LadyMuzzMuzz



Series: Navigating the Stars. [1]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Baby Nero (Devil May Cry), F/M, POV Alternating, Romantic Beginning, soft Vergil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-19 07:24:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20653397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMuzzMuzz/pseuds/LadyMuzzMuzz
Summary: You're just a lowly caretaker at Fortuna's orphanage, who has a special affection for a white haired newborn.





	1. Inferno

Everything was burning.

Behind you, the stout timbers of the orphanage crackled under the intense heat. Around you, the falling sparks had ignited the grass, dried from the summer's dry season, lit the way before you, and singeing your worn leather boots.

Your lungs burned, both from the smoke you had inhaled, and from the fact you had been sprinting for what felt like at least five minutes. If Mother Juliana could see you now....

Your eyes were burning. Of course, you'd claim it was the smoke, but the smoke wasn't as thick here, and a clear wind was blowing it downwind of you now. It was the burning of betrayal. Of you. No one had tried to awaken you when the demons attacked, not to ask for your aid, nor to aid you. Of course, rescuing the children were more important than a single whores-daughter, and there was always a chance in the confusion you were overlooked.

No, the main betrayal was of the treasure you carried tightly against your chest. Little Nero, a babe of just a few months dozed comfortably in your arms, unaware of the carnage surrounding you. When you awoke to the sounds of screams and the snarls of demons, you'd instinctively checked as many of the rooms as you could before the smoke choked you out, making sure there were no lost children, and when you came across the infants room, Nero, still wrapped in his black blanket, lay in his crib, screaming in terror. None of the other cribs had babies in them, which led that he'd been overlooked when the ladies of building had scooped up the little ones...

Not overlooked, ignored. It was no secret that the little boy, with his hair of pure white was considered an oddity, perhaps even an ill omen in Fortuna's highly superstitious society. While other newborns were often adopted immediately after arriving to the orphanage, Nero had yet to even been considered by anyone. Added to the fact that his parentage was... sketchy at best, made him a rather poor choice for adoption. You'd heard whispers from the Sisters about the “White haired whore-son” when they thought you weren't listening.

Which made you love the boy even more. You felt a kinship with the baby, a shared pain that you were determined to not let him suffer. You'd protect him for as long as you were able, from the jeers of the Matrons, fellow children, and Fortuna in general. Hell, if you had to get him off the island, you would. You'd heard stories that places outside didn't have their societies coloured with such prejudices, and even let their people walk around without those damn constricting hoods.

At the moment, your hood was actually a boon, protecting you from the flying sparks. But it was not just the sparks that you had to worry about. There were fiends that attacked. You hadn't gotten a good look at them, but what little you had seen had been enough to give you the burst of adrenaline to keep running.

But now, that adrenaline had ran out, and the burning in your lungs and eyes finally took precedence in your trembling body. Slowing down to a stop, you leaned against the trunk of a large oak, thick enough to shield you from the ash that slowly floated down, as the winds changed directions. Sobs of pain, anguish, and exhaustion threatened to erupt from your throat, so you looked down at the one thing that kept you grounded.

Still swaddled up in his well worn signature black blanket, Nero's angelic face softly breathed against your chest. Attempting to match your breaths with his, you slowly found yourself calming down, and with your back slowing sliding down the rough trunk of the tree, you began to think rationally.

Obviously, you needed to head back to the remains of the orphanage. By now, the local detachment of the Order would have descended on the the burning building, beating back the tide of demons. And of course, the Sisters would be doing a head check of both children and staff, making sure that everyone was accounted for. You'd put their minds to rest if you and Nero came back to assure them that both of you were safe.

Logic dictated you should though, but the niggling feeling of both being abandoned by the people you thought you trusted caused you to discard that thought. Besides, your modest home was not far, and you had supplies to take care of little Nero, whereas the orphanage was most likely gutted. You and the child could spend the night in relative safety, and you could return in the morning.

<strike>Of course, this would be a perfect time to leave this island.</strike>

As you slowly got up from your sitting position, an unusual sound of cracking branches to your right chilled your blood. It was not the sound of mortal men, far too loud. And the scrabbling of claws was enough to tell you the worst had come.

A voice screeched as you tried to stealthily hide behind the gnarled root of the tree that had protected you so far.

_The blood of the Betrayer is near! Find it now, or Mundus will have your hides. You already let the mongrel escape once, I will not permit it to happen again!_

Clutching the swaddled babe as close to your chest as possible, you willed your breath to cease. Tears formed your eyes in response, and then to your horror, you realized you were upwind of the voice.

As if on cue the vaguely feminine voice started crooning, and you shook in terror.

_I know you're there little one.... Come out and I'll make it quick, you won't feel a thing... not even a pinprick...come out, coooome ouuuut._

Ice filled your veins, both from fear and from what you could have sworn was demonic magic. Perhaps if you let Nero go softly on the ground, and revealed yourself, this demon would kill you, and overlook the child.....

At this Nero soft eyelashes fluttered against your skin and he began to struggle.... and then whimper. Was it due to the magic? Frantically you tried to shush him, as quietly as possible, but it was too late.

_Aha... found you!_

You closed your eyes, curled up against your precious bundle, and began to pray to the Saviour that whatever happened, the boy would be spared.

**Pathetic... **


	2. The Ice Shatters

The fire was visible for miles, as curious onlookers who were still awake at this hour watched. Vergil, who had been reading by lantern light, (was he actually reading, or had he been looking at the same paragraph for the past hour?) followed the villagers gaze. He heard snatches of conversation

\--Looks like the Orphanage..

\--Those poor children..

\--The Order soldiers have been dispatched, you think it's a demon attack?

This last sentence pricked up his head. Ever since Temen-Nii-Gru, when he'd departed from Dante (whom he was furious at for dragging him out of Hell, he should have cut off his bloody arm) he'd forged his path and wandered back to Fortuna. Surely there was another way access the power he sought! But the past few months had been fruitless.

_Perhaps a distraction to clear my mind is in order, _he thought to himself. He'd not fought anything worth a passing thought since he came back to the island. Strapping Yamato to his waist, and adjusting his traveller's hood (Fortuna's pathetic obsession of modesty bored him, but if he wanted the information he needed, he had to bow to custom, and on the other hand, there was his brother's atrocious sense of fashion, he didn't know which one he detested more) he set off towards the blaze.

Halfway there, he realized that yes, the rumours were true. Demons were scattered throughout the forest. It was perplexing though, they weren't moving as a host, like they usually did when on the attack. Each demon was on their own, sniffing the air...as if searching for something, or someone. He was downwind of most of them, so dispatching them was easy. It was all a bit disappointing really...

_The blood of the Betrayer is near! Find it now, or Mundus will have your hides. You already let the mongrel escape once, I will not permit it to happen again!_

At this, Vergil tensed...most low ranking demons never spoke, aside from garbled demonic dialectics. Which meant whoever this wretched voice belonged to, they were probably one of the big ones. The mention of Mundus caused fire to race down his veins. As did the “Blood of the Betrayer” They were looking for him? But why attack an orphanage? To lure him in? This made no sense. Unlike his feckless brother, he had no interest of running around saving humans, for money or no.

_I know you're there little one.... Come out and I'll make it quick, you won't feel a thing... not even a pinprick...come out, coooome ouuuut._

Now he was just insulted. A proud Son of Sparda wouldn't tolerate this childish treatment.... Still, it didn't hurt to be cautious, especially if it was a lieutenant of Mundus. Hand on the hilt of his katana, he slowly walked to watch the decrepit figure of what passed as a woman. Well, at least down to her waist, which then transformed into the form of a giant spider. She wasn't even looking in his direction. But then, to his surprise, he heard the whimper of a small child.

_Aha... found you!_

Oh this was embarrassing, for all her bluster, she wasn't even hunting in the correct direction. Best to put her out of her misery.

**Pathetic**

_Wait, that's not possible, the sce--_

He didn't let her finish her sentence. Faster than the blink of an eye, Yamato struck out, neatly bisecting the demon at her waist, with the only sound of her death rattle as a punctuation mark. Her demise must have alerted the other demons, and caused a drastic drop in morale, because the dismayed chattering of demons echoed through the forest as they fled. He turned to follow, when the wail of a baby behind him caused his hand to revert to his weapon.

Behind the gnarled tree, a hooded woman slowly peeked out, carrying a black bundle. She quietly rocked it, shushing it gently. At the sound of her soft voice, the child began to calm down. Her face was obscured, much like his was, but the patterning meant she was a Fortuna native, and if his memory served him well enough, an unmarried one as well...with a child.

She looked around warily before looking at him, making sure the demons were out of the immediate vicinity. He could sense her receding panic, though she kept her composure as much as possible.

“Thank you”, she quietly stated. He nodded and began to turn around, fully intending to continue his hunt.

“Wait!” the calm facade she maintained had cracked, and he paused mid turn. “I need to get home, and there are still demons out there. I..I don't have the energy to run anymore. It's not that far... Please?” she asked. He could just walk away, if he wasted his time playing bodyguard to this frail woman, the hunt would be essentially over.

But a strange feeling burrowed through his chest, and he hesitated. An agonizing moment for both him and the woman later, he nodded his head.

“Lead the way, and be quick about it”

In the darkness, he could make out the smile, as she let out a breath she probably didn't know she was holding. “Thank you, Saviour's blessings on you” she said so sincerely, that he didn't even internally scoff at who she was unintentionally referring to.

She lead the way through the forest, occasionally talking to the baby, “Hush Nero, everything's alright, we'll get you a bottle when we get home” And singing a quiet lullaby to the child when he got fidgety. Her voice was soothing both to the child, and Vergil, much to his surprise.

After the child settled down, she slowed down a bit while he caught up. Quietly, she asked “You're not with the Order, are you?”

“No,” he stated, a bit more softly than he intended, “I'm a visiting...scholar.”

She chuckled gently “If that's what scholars are like on the Mainland, I'd like to see what your armed forces are like.”

“You've never been out of Fortuna?” he inquired, not sure why he even cared.

“No, I'm employed with the orphanage, and I rarely even have time to go to the capital”

“The orphanage..” he mused, “so the boy...” he glanced at her, and underneath her hood, he could make out a smile, albeit a sad one.

“No, Nero isn't mine, as much as I would like him to be. He's such a sweet boy, but because I'm unmarried, that's out of question”. Her head picked up as they reached a clearing. The chaos was fading behind them, and ahead lay a modest cottage. “Aha, here we are.” Pulling out a key, she unlocked the door, and turned on the light.

Satisfied he had done his duty, Vergil wordlessly turned to return....to what? The demons were scattered, and probably could be picked off by old women by this time. And while this was an amusing diversion, his mind didn't feel cleared up, in fact, it felt even more cluttered than ever. He cursed himself for allowing this woman to distract him so.

“Wait” She called out, but not in the panicked form as before. “It's late, and the nearest residence is miles away. You cannot possibly expect me to just let you travel alone.”

“I can handle myself, more that can be said for you” he snapped at her, and she shrank back. Immediately if he found the strange feeling in his chest come back with a vengeance.

“Please” she said plaintively “you only have to stay the night, you can leave at the first light of dawn....I... I just would feel much better if I knew you were safe.” The genuine concern touched something deep within himself, something he long thought dead and buried. Still he resisted.

“Would it not be unseemly that an outsider such as myself staying the night at an unmarried woman? You people have reputations to upkeep”

The woman barked a laugh that had a twinge of a sob at the end of it “As if my reputation could be any lower” Vergil cocked his eyebrow in confusion, but his hood obscured it, so she didn't see. “To hell with custom, you saved my life, OUR lives, to let you just go on your own on a night like this would be a greater insult.”

Something within himself turned back to face her, and he slowly crossed the threshold. He entered a tidy, if cramped living room, with a couch and a well worn rocking chair. with an attached kitchen, filled with the basic appliances. To the back, a hallway lead to what he assumed was a bedroom and bathroom.

Despite the fact that she was in her own residence, she didn't remove her hood, an indication that she understood his need of a clear boundary. He kept his hood on likewise, uncomfortable as it may be. He idly wondered what she looked like underneath that embroidered linen cloth.

She opened the cupboard and with one hand started retrieving a bottle and a can of formula. The child decided he had enough of being swaddled and started squirming, becoming agitated. “Nero, hush now, just for a moment longer, I just have to heat up your bottle...” the babe refused to listen and began to wail.

A deep sense of cold built in the pit of Vergil's stomach, and she looked up at him, “Would you hold him? I just need to make him a bottle... he'll most likely settle down once he's in your arms. He's usually very calm when you hold him still.”

Vergil flinched as she approached with the child. No, this was not what he wanted....he'd never been good with other people, not even his twin brother, and never with children.

<strike> _What if I hurt him?_ </strike>

A soft chuckle took him out of his thoughts. “What's this, a man who strikes down vicious demons, afraid of an infant?” It wasn't a serious insult, he felt, she was goading him. Still, she had a point. He was a Son of Sparda, he should not be afraid of a small, weak human. They should be terrified of him.

Gently he reached for the child, as she came closer to hand the babe over. “Remember, to support his head, his neck muscles aren't fully developed yet” she murmured, and before he knew it, he was holding the infant all by himself. He half expected his demonic energy to cause the child to burst out in tears, but to his surprise, Nero settled softly into his arms, as if he had belonged there the whole time.

“I told you” she stated, with a hint a smugness tinging it. He heard her filling up a pot with water and the sound of the stove turning on.

“He's so small...” he said softly and he looked down at the bundle that rested in his arms. In the light of the kitchen light, he got a better look at the boy and then gasped at the child's head “His hair...”

“Yes, his hair is.... unique.” She said with some hesitation. A sad sigh as she placed the empty bottle in the boiling pot. “He'll have challenges in his life, due to how Fortuna is, and it isn't even his fault.”

The bitterness in her tone snapped his head up. “What do you mean?” He barked, a bit more harshly than he intended, and in response, the babe became agitated. Almost as an instinct, Vergil rocked Nero a bit until he calmed down.

“White hair before you become an elder is considered an ill omen, it's....unnatural. Not to mention...” She trailed off.

Vergil watched her as she robotically removed the sanitized bottle out of the boiling water with a pair of tongs before setting it on a fresh tea towel on the kitchen counter to cool Though the hood concealed a majority of her face, he could see the sadness that coloured her features. He didn't like it one bit.

“Fortuna is...a very conservative city state,” she continued, after taking a deep breath. “And it doesn't like to acknowledge that it's a place that's made up of people, with all their faults and needs. Of both of the spirit...and the flesh” She poured some warm water into the bottle, and added a plastic scoop of powder to it. Screwing the lid on, she placed her thumb on the nipple, and mechanically rocked the bottle with her wrist. “Occasionally, a newborn will show up on our doorstep, sometimes with a note, more likely, not. And of course, it's our duty to make sure the children are raised up well, but the taint never gets washed away, trust me, I should know.” Her hand rubbed her cheek to wipe away some wetness, and Vergil's chest ached. There was nothing he could say. But there was a question that needed answering.

“How old...how old is Nero?” he tentatively asked. The child's name felt strange on his tongue.

The woman was testing the bottle on her wrist, squirting a few drops to make sure it wasn't too hot. She seemed satisfied as she cocked her head to do some mental calculations. “Assuming he was a day or so old when we found him, he's about two and a half months old.”

Vergil was silent as he did his own calculations....two and half months, plus nine months....

_Well Shit, _a voice inside his head said, and to his irritation, it sounded exactly like his younger brother. The pieces were fitting together. He had been in the capital eleven months ago, doing the same thing as he was attempting to do now, and he had let... a distraction take a hold of him. An understandable, but ultimately human distraction, and he had put it out of his mind. Until now.

_The blood of the Betrayer is near! _The demon's voice hit him. And now he understood why the orphanage had been attacked, and why that demonic monstrosity hadn't expected him. A chill set in his bones, realizing she would not be the last to attempt harming his son.

_His Son....._

So engrossed at the whole situation that he didn't sense the young woman approaching him with the bottle until she pressed against his arm. The warm bottle caused him to flinch more than he wanted, and he looked at her. She smiled softly and held out her arms to take Nero (_His Son) _back.

He shook his head, and asked softly, “May I?” He was afraid she'd refuse him. After all, wasn't it a few minutes ago he hadn't wanted anything to do with the child? She should have expected him to thrust Nero back into her arms.

To his relief, a smile spread on her mouth, and she guided him to the couch. She handed him the bottle and gently guided his hand so the bottle was at the correct angle. Nero eagerly took to the bottle, and his tiny fists clung to it as he suckled. His piercing blue eyes stared right at Vergil, who couldn't tear his eyes away, not even when he heard the lady chuckle as she sat next to him

“Looks like you're a natural” she said proudly, and an unfamiliar warmth blossomed through his chest. Cautiously, he stroked (his) child's features, memorizing them via touch and sight...

After a time that felt like forever, and yet felt too short, Nero finished up the bottle and Vergil allowed her to take it. She hesitatingly asked,“He needs to be burped, would you like me to do it, or...”

“Allow me, no need to disturb him,” he replied, hoping that the excuse would be enough. It was, and she sat closer to him to lay another tea towel on his shoulder. Gently, she guided his hands so that he was holding Nero with the child's head resting on his shoulder. The sensation of two people touching him at the same time was almost overwhelming, and it took all his willpower to remain calm. Him, Vergil, Eldest Son of Sparda, nearly panicking over the fact he was holding his own flesh and blood. Someone who needed his protection....

and his love.

Her gentle voice anchored him to the present. “Now just lightly pat his back a few times, and then give it a rub, takes about two times before he burps.” He carefully followed instructions, internally terrified that he would crush the child's tiny form. True to her word, Nero jerked a bit, and a small burp came from his tiny mouth.

Gently, oh so gently, he allowed her to take (his) child back, blissfully unaware to the turmoil that churned in his heart. He watched her hold Nero, as she sang the child a lullaby. The smile on her face made him want to take off her hood, just so he could see the rest of her kind features.

The clock on the wall chimed midnight, startling both of them. “My goodness,” she exclaimed. “It's been a wild night.” She reluctantly got off the couch. “I'll put Nero to bed before turning in. I know it isn't much, but the couch is comfortable enough to sleep on, and I have a few books on the bookshelf to read, if you get bored.

His eyes followed her as she walked down the hallway, and unexpectedly, as she reached her bedroom, she paused and turned to him.

“Goodnight...and thank you”

The door closed silently behind her, leaving Vergil, a man who had spurned his humanity for over a decade, to be overwhelmed in it. And the strangest thing, he didn't mind it at all...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will never pass up a chance to make fun of DMC3 Dante's sense of fashion. Good game, but Dante...Dante... sweetheart....
> 
> Also, the most unrealistic thing here is the fact Nero burped on exactly when he was supposed to. What usually happens is that Nero would burp up all over Vergil.


	3. Sweet Sorrow

The sun's harsh rays peaked through a crack in your blinds, straight into your eyes. Blearily, you looked at your clock. 8 o'clock. You hadn't slept this well in a very long time, considering your occupation consisted of little ones who thought the first rays of sunlight meant breakfast. You'd half expected to have nightmares of the past night haunting your sleep, but it had been a calm, dreamless rest.

Wait...

8 o'clock. You'd gone to bed with Nero at midnight, and even Nero, the sweet thing he was, couldn't stay still for that long. You glanced down at the makeshift bed you had made for him on the floor.

_He wasn't there....._

Your eyes snapped open, and you practically launched yourself out of bed. If that strange gentleman had taken Nero, had harmed a single hair on his head you'd.... well, you'd probably not be able to do anything, if his skill with the sword was any indication, but you'd die fighting.

So pumped up with fear and adrenaline last night, you'd done the stupidest thing ever, and let a complete stranger, an outsider into your home, and even worse, let him handle Nero. You kicked yourself mentally repeatedly as you got dressed, neglecting to put your hood back on, cursing yourself for letting your emotions cloud your judgment. Your anger at you and Nero being abandoned, trusting a complete stranger to protect you, to let him stay overnight, to allow him to hold your precious charge. To watch him gently hold Nero, you'd fooled yourself into thinking this man, whom you barely knew, wasn't a threat.

You yanked the door open and stalked into the hallway before halting at the entrance of the living room. There, sitting in a rocking chair, he sat, holding Nero....

and softly singing the child a lullaby.

Your hand slowly went to your mouth, covering the smile that grew. You'd never heard this song... and you'd thought you had heard every child's song that had ever been. Your mind unconsciously admired the timbre of his voice. Had he been trained? There was something so soothing about it.

You allowed him to finish his song before subtly clearing your throat. Oddly enough, for how alert he seemed to be last night, he startled for a brief second before calming down. He gave you the smallest smile under the hood he still wore.

“He was fussing earlier, I thought it best you to let you rest,” he explained, and you felt yourself blush at his thoughtfulness. You went to the cupboard to grab a bottle for Nero, but were interrupted by him.

“I.. uh...took the liberty of making bottle for him about an hour ago.” he sounded so nervous, it was adorable. So different from when you first met him less than twelve hours ago. Looking at the counter, you saw the used bottle, washed, and set up to dry, neatly.

You were about to ask him about the diaper situation, but as if he was psychic, he stated nervously, “His diaper has already been changed...I..I think I did it correctly. He sheepishly offered you Nero for inspection, and despite your initial worries, you realised he was no threat to you either or little Nero, even with his earlier demeanour. While you cuddled and cooed over Nero, he tidied up the blankets and you noticed that he'd been reading one book off your shelf, a book about childcare. 

“His diaper is well done,” you chuckled approvingly, and you could have sworn his lower face flashed a shade of pink. “Would you like a cup of tea?” He nodded and he tried to disguise his eagerness to take Nero back.

As you placed the kettle on the stove, you watched the man (you still didn't know his name, but to be fair, you hadn't given him yours either) cradle Nero in his arms and slowly walk him around your small living room.

“Looks like Nero has charmed another person,” you chuckled under your breath, and to your surprise, he heard you.

“Yes, he's...special” He murmured, and began humming the same tune as before.

“I've never heard that song before, is it a lullaby from the mainland?” You asked as you poured the boiling water into the tea pot to let it steep.

“I assume so,” he responded slowly “My...mother sang it to me when I was younger. It has been a long time since I've heard it” his small smile faded away at the mention, and you internally kicked yourself for bringing a bittersweet memory to him. As if he sensed the man's sadness, Nero grabbed one of his fingers and gripped hard. “So strong....” the man murmured more to himself than anything.

You were hesitant to interrupt this touching scene, but the tea was now well steeped, and you prepared the cups, “Sugar, milk?” His head slowly looked back up at your unhooded face, and you felt like you were being memorized by him.

“Two sugars, please” he asked, and you nodded and pulled out your well worn sugar pot. As you stirred the sugar in his tea, he carefully placed Nero on a blanket on the floor, within easy view for both of you at the small kitchen table. You both sat down, and you watched as he tentatively took a sip of the aromatic Earl Grey. You tensed up, waiting for reaction, and were rewarded with a tiny smile. You really wanted him to take his hood off, if only see the rest of his (handsome, you knew it was handsome somehow) face.

The clock chimed 9'o'clock and his face steeled back up. “He can't go back to the orphanage,” he stated matter of factly, throwing you a verbal curve ball you did not expect.

“A-and where would you suggest he goes? I've already told you I can't adopt him, and you're the first person who's looked past his hair and background, but you're...an outsider.” You tried to phrase it as kindly as possible, but his frown did not convey warmth. It was as if he had returned to the icy persona you met the night before.

“Irregardless, if he goes back, both him, you, and the rest of the orphanage are in danger.” His hand grazed against the hilt of his weapon, and you weren't certain if it was a conscious action.

“What...what do you mean?” you asked timidly, “He's just a child, and the orphanage has no reason to be attacked”

“Doesn't matter, to a demon, a threat is a threat, no matter if it's a newborn, or a twenty year old man. And unless you've attained the skills to protect him from the worst the Underworld can send, his life will be in constant danger.” He paused, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I want to request that he stays with me.” Another curve ball. You attempted to speak, but he held up his hand as he continued. “I'll admit I'm new to this, I've never experienced parenthood, I'm going to make mistakes, but I'm willing to learn. I want to learn. The one thing I'm good at, the one skill I've spent my life trying to perfect is to fight, to protect....protect the ones I care about.”

Slowly he removed his hood. You gasped softly. You were right, he was handsome, from his lovely lips, to his long angular nose, clear grey eyes, and most shockingly of all, a head of brilliant white hair. Slowly, your gaze travelled from him, to Nero who wiggled happily on his blanket, oblivious to the turmoil swirling through the air. Despite just drinking a cup of tea, your mouth felt dry.

“You're...you're...Nero's...”

“His father, yes, I'm certain of it. Those demons,” he stated and he pointed with his thumb in the general direction of the forest “They're not the first I've encountered hunting for me, and they won't be the last. I've spent the last decade fighting to keep myself safe, and now,” he paused to look at (his) child cooing softly at him, “I have something to protect, something to cherish, and I'll be damned if I let him be hurt.” His eyes looked glassy, and his breathing was erratic.

“I'll admit,” he hung his head in shame “that when he woke up this morning, that I was about to take him and just leave this place.” He refused to look you in the eye, and you could feel the guilt roll off of him in waves. “But I knew he meant a lot to you, and I did not wish to...to..hurt you.” His confession surprised you, and touched by it, you gently reached over the table and held his hand. Instantly, his eyes shot up at you, and at the sight of your gentle smile, he relaxed, if only a little bit.

“_Please,” _he all but begged in a ragged voice _“let me keep him safe”._

You made your decision. It was painful decision, one that felt like you had been stabbed multiple times, but it was for the best. Quickly you went to the cupboard and pulled out the tin of formula, as well as the set of bottles.

“Nero gets fed a bottle about once every four hours,” you said, speaking as if you were training a new aide. Anything to keep yourself from breaking down. “In a about four months he'll be able to start up mushed up food, but for now, stick to formula. He doesn't seem to have a intolerance to dairy, so the generic brand is fine for him, no need to worry about fancy brands. Remember to burp him after every bottle, just like last night” _Must keep moving, don't think. _You found one of your old travel bags, and carefully placed the bottles in. “He gets naps in the late morning and late afternoons, although as he gets older, you can cut it down to one afternoon nap. Nero hasn't really gotten the concept of night sleeping, so expect your sleep schedule to be a bit disrupted." Out of the corner of your eye, the man gently picked up Nero and held him close. You cautiously pushed beside him not daring to look straight at them, in fear that you'd collapse. You grabbed a package of diapers, his black blanket, baby wipes, and baby powder and managed to fit them in the travel bag as well. “Unless he's really dirty, he can go two to three days without a bath, he doesn't need a special tub, a regular bathtub will do, and his hair is fine enough that it doesn't need shampoo that often. Just remember to check the temperature of the water.” You looked around the living room, looked anywhere besides the two people in front of you. There was the childcare book, still beside the rocking chair, and looking at it wistfully, you packed it on the side panel of the bag. “He likes the colour blue, and he enjoys when someone sings to...sings to...”

It was too much. You swore you'd protect Nero, and didn't he deserve his blood family? Better yet, a blood family that cared about him? You should be happy, you should be glad that he was going to have a better life than you could ever promise him. If his father was right (and you had no reason to doubt his assertions), you'd be no match against the demons that would come for the boy. You'd gotten extremely lucky, almost divinely so this time, but there were going to be more attacks. And yet...

You leaned against the cool wooden counter of the kitchen, hyperventilating. The past twelve hours of emotions came crashing down to this one single moment. You couldn't handle it. Suddenly, you felt his presence next to you, and gently, ever so carefully, you felt his hand on your back, rubbing it slowly in the same pattern he had on Nero's back last night. Through your sobs you heard his voice, softer, more gentle than you'd ever imagined him to be.

“Vergil”

You turned towards him, trying to blink away your tears with an obviously confused look on your face.

“My name is Vergil, I suppose you deserve to know that about me, at least.”

You sniffled and smiled, as your breathing slowly returned back to normal. As it did, you told him your name. Vergil (what a nice name) repeated it back to you, closing his eyes, memorizing it, tasting in it his mouth as if it was honey.

You glanced up at the clock, “It's best if you go now, you can probably catch the early afternoon ferry if you head out. Nero's very good while travelling. I doubt that you'll be given much trouble if you keep a low profile.”

“No need,” he sternly said, leaving you perplexed. “I have my own ways of travelling, much safer than with people.” He slung the bag over his shoulder, and with Nero comfortably resting his tiny head on his other shoulder, he began to head out the front door. You followed, confused. “I would suggest that you tell the Matron that you...” he paused, “lost Nero in the attack. While protecting Nero from demons will be my primary priority, it would not do to have someone from the Church sniffing around about him” He didn't elaborate on what he was talking about, but you sensed he knew more than you realized.

You numbly nodded, with how you felt right now, it would be easy for you to convince Mother Juliana that something tragic had happened to the boy. It was well known how attached to Nero you were.

  


A short distance from the front door, he gingerly set the bag down, and reached for his sword. You panicked, running towards him, to stop him from... from doing something horrible, but you were stopped in your tracks by his calm and confident voice. “Stand back”. And with two cuts into the air in front of him, the air literally peeled back, like the skin of an overripe peach. Beyond lay... nothing but an endless void. Anything you wanted to say died in your throat, as he elegantly sheathed the blade, and picked up the bag. With no hesitation (how often did he do this, and how could a sword do such a thing?) he walked up and began to path through the...portal? As he did he paused and turned towards you, with the softest, most genuine smile on his face.

“Goodbye, and thank you”.

You should be happy, ecstatic even, as the portal closed behind him, the skins mending themselves to the point other than the faint smell of ozone, there was no trace. Nero had his father, a man who despite your first impressions, was a man who loved him, and would do anything to keep him safe. You wanted nothing more than that for the little boy. So why did it feel like he'd taken his sword, and cut you along with the air when creating the portal?


	4. Lodestar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May broken hearts be mended.....

_Six years later..._

You hummed the familiar tune as you placed the new shipment of books into the assigned shelf. Delivery days were some of your favourite days, where you could peruse the newest titles in the cramped confines of the little corner bookstore.

Shortly after the attack on the Orphanage, you'd returned to the ruined wreckage, letting the Sisters know that Nero had been a victim. Your grief was genuine, and that, along with a combination of their cruel ignorance, they believed you. Slowly but surely, you assisted with the rebuilding of the orphanage, and after a few months the building was back to its usual self, with children running, playing, fighting, squealing, and talking.

You thought that time would heal your unseen wounds, but a millennium could not heal the rift between you and the other Sisters. The memory of being abandoned still bit, sharp as a knife. So when you tendered your resignation to Mother Juliana shortly after the completion of the building, it was not unexpected on both sides. You'd sold most of your worldly possessions, headed to the Capital, and from there, took the ferry to the mainland. There, to your surprise, you found a sizable collection of Fortuna ex-pats, the outcasts, exiles and dissidents. They welcomed you into their eccentric community, helping you get you on your feet. If only you had left the island earlier.... but at what cost?

You'd gotten a job at this independent bookstore, run by an elderly ex-Fortunite, who gently guided you through the eccentricities of living on the mainland.

Sparda, for example, wasn't considered a Divinity the Order had proclaimed, and using the word 'Savior' when thanking, or wishing someone farewell got you odd looks. And no one, aside from some anti-social teenagers going through a phase, wore hoods. That took you a while to get used to, and even now, going out in public without some sort of hat made you feel nervous.

And even though there were still prejudices, the Mainland seemed much more open, if a bit anonymous. Outside of the matronly cat loving owner of the bookstore, and the local cafe baristas (they had a delicious berry herbal blend that you swore by), you had very little contact with anyone. You had become a bit....lonely. On some nights, you even missed the coziness of the orphanage, much to your surprise and dismay. You weren't fond of those nights, because they often led to nightmares, of fire, of the sounds of skittering demons, of a pale haired child, crying for his father.

The antique bell rang out, signalling a customer entering, so you reluctantly closed the book and left the the cramped storeroom, past the amber beaded entrance curtain, and into the equally crowded storefront.

_Odd, I could have sworn there was someone here...._

The place seemed deserted, but the higher than average bookshelves easily concealed prospective customers, especially if they were on the short side.

Following a hunch, you headed to the children's section. It had expanded quite a lot since you joined, and the elderly owner appreciated your perspective on children's literature. As you rounded the corner, your heart skipped a beat at the flash of silver white hair.

_No....it can't be..._

There, in rapt concentration at a book about dinosaurs, was a serious looked young boy, in a dark blue jacket, black pants and runners, slowly mouthing the words as he read the words about the armour of Ankylosaurus. Occasionally, he brushed his blindingly brilliant bangs out of his hair as he came to a word that needed more focus to pronounce. White bangs....

You stood there, mouth dry and open. There was no doubt, this was Nero. In the six years, he'd sprouted up, but lost none of his adorableness. And looking at the book he was reading, meant for a child several years older, quite well learned, a bit of a scholar. Just like his father....

The child flipped to the next page, (showing a poor T-Rex with a goosegg from the aforementioned Ankylosaurus) and caught you staring at him. Quick as startled squirrel, he dropped the book and began to run towards another aisle.

Without thinking, you called out “Wait! Nero!”, which was enough to stop him in his tracks, as he turned to face you, eyes defiant, wary, and with just a touch of fear. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, and after breaking away from your gaze, he began looking around frantically.

  
“How-how did you know my name?” he yelped, his big blue eyes finally making contact with you again. You didn't expect him to be so guarded at such a young age, but if what Vergil had said all those years ago, the boy probably had experienced multiple demon attacks over his short life. Occasionally you still had nightmares of that night, and you expected any sane individual to have the same. You prayed that his childhood mental resiliency would protect him. Other than his wary demeanour, he looked healthy, with traces of baby fat still on his cheeks, and a healthy mop of the brilliant hair. It was a relief to know he was being well taken care of. Hopefully by his father.

How to explain? Nero obviously wouldn't remember you, and you had no idea how much he knew of his past. So focused on thinking of a way to assure him that you weren't a threat, you didn't sense the approach of another.

“It's alright, Nero, she's not a danger” came from your left, and you (too eagerly) swung your head to come face to face with a man you'd never expected to see again.

Vergil...

Six years might have not changed him as drastically as his son, but age and fatherhood had subtly marked him. His stern features had softened and while still serious, and there was less tension in the way he stood. And most noticeable, was his small, yet <strike>adorable</strike> soft smile as he greeted you by name.

_He remembered your name._

“Had I known you were off the island and were working here, I would have come to this bookstore sooner.”

“I-uh,” you stammered, quite taken aback at what he was implying. _He had wanted to see you? _“I've been here for a couple of years, I... I don't get out much, keep to myself most of the time. The mainland is a bit of a culture shock” Which was true enough, “How have you been?” It wasn't the intellectual stimulating conversation you were hoping for, but you were grasping at straws.

“We've settled down in this city, I have....” he paused, and a flash of a distaste momentarily crossed his face “connections that allow us to remain relatively safe. Nero is able to attend sch-”

“Dad” the little boy interjected, still looking with you with a cautious glare (totally inherited from his father) “Who is she?”

“Nero...” Vergil chided his son mildly, “remember what I taught you about interrupting.”

“Yeah,” Nero replied glumly, and began reciting what no doubt had been a constant lecture, “it's rude, and makes me sound like Uncle Dante”, his father nodded solemnly, before turning back to you. “You wouldn't remember her, you were very little at the time. Remember how I told you that demons tried to get you when you were a baby? She was the one that kept you safe”

“I only did what....” you started, but the boy interrupted yet again.

“Oh, you're the lady dad told me about, the lady that helped him find me!” Nero's serious look transformed into what you assumed was his usual sunny disposition. You were taken aback, you'd thought that you'd be an afterthought in Vergil's mind, and your cheeks heated up, hopefully unnoticed by either of them.

“Nero...”

“Sorry dad...” the child hung his head, and his elder walked up on him, and gently ruffled his hair before sighing “Your uncle is a bad influence”

Looking down, you saw the dinosaur book, momentarily forgotten in this unexpected reunion. Picking it up, you smiled softly and knelt down to hand it to the little boy, who's eyes grew to the size of hub caps.

“For you, a gift.” stunned, Nero stared at you for a bit, before looking over your shoulder at his father, ostensibly to ask permission, and when he received it, gently took it from your hands and held it close to his chest, like he cherished it more than anything in the world. You were rewarded with a genuine, no holds barred, 24 carat smile. “Really?” he asked, and beamed when you nodded. You could easily cover the cost of the book out of your savings.

He ran up to his father, “Look, dad! It's all about dinosaurs!” He flipped to a page with a Stegosaurus, “Did you know it had two brains because it was so big?”, another page turned to a Brontosaurus “It was so long that if you stepped on it's tail it would take five seconds to feel it!” He rapidly turned the pages until he came to a horned dinosaur, “Look, look, this one kinda looks like you wh-”

“That's quite enough Nero” Vergil cut off awkwardly, before looking back at you to explain “He's at that age where he's absolutely obsessed with dinosaurs. He can practically quote Jurassic Park word for word now.”

  
“Daaaaad, you just told me it was rude to interrupt people when they're talking” whined Nero, with a hint of glee that he'd caught his father.

“Apologies, my little star” chuckled Vergil softly, “What do you say when you receive a gift?”

“Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!” Nero squealed as he jumped up and down, hugging the book tightly.

A husky laugh unexpectedly came from Vergil, “I assume he likes it, allow me to thank you as well” Nero was now back into his book, reading about something about an Archaeopteryx fossil, oblivious to anything else.

“It was nothing, seeing Nero happy like that is its own reward”

“That's not what I meant. I'm talking about before” he closed his eyes, collecting his thoughts, and you could have sworn that his face had gone a couple shades redder. “I never fully expressed my appreciation what you did for my son and myself back then” He paused, and pinched the bridge of his nose, “I have a few regrets in my life, such as not being there for Nero when he was born. But something I regret most,” and you now you were certain the poor man was blushing “Was leaving you behind.”

You stood there, slack jawed.

“I am not one to believe in fate, or other superstitions, but if our paths had not crossed, I...” he stopped, obviously flustered. You decided that he'd done enough thus far, and it was your turn bridge the gap.

“Well, it looks like your little star” you nodded over at Nero, completely in the dark about anything outside his book, “has guided you to another chance for... us?” Now it was your turn to blush, and you felt incredibly exposed “I- I mean, I hope I don't come across to strongly...”

“Not at all...” he took your hand, and gently grazed your knuckles with his thumb. _Such soft hands_. “I just- I just want to do this properly.”

Understanding that he felt out of his depth, you reached out to him, “Well, there's a lovely little cafe a few blocks down from here that I like to frequent, if you would like to meet for tea. I close up the store around 5:30, so...”

“That sounds lovely” Vergil said, outwardly confident, but you could sense relief in his voice. And slowly, oh so gently, he took your hand and chastely kissed it, while looking directly in eyes. It was much too soon for you, but eventually he let go of your hand before calling his son, still oblivious to anything but dinosaurs.

“Nero, we must go home now, your uncle will be expecting us back soon”

“Okay dad,” he said as he jumped down from the chair, the leather making a weathered squeak. He paused, looking up at you, “Can we come back here again? They might have more books about dinosaurs, or even sabre-tooth tigers!”

“I'll be sure to find some books like that, for your next visit,” you promised, attempting to keep a straight face after the hurricane of emotions that churned within you.

“Awwwsome, you're the best!” and without warning, he glomped and gave you a giant hug around your waist.

_I'm not going to cry I'm not going to cry I'm not going to cry...._

You carefully wrapped your arms around him, your hands carding through his soft hair. Eventually he let go, and looked up at you with adoration before running off to join his father. You followed them out the door, and watched as they walked side by side down the sidewalk. Just before they turned the corner, Nero turned around, and happily waved goodbye to you, book still clutched tightly to his chest. Even from this distance, you could still see Vergil's smile directed at both his son and you.

And even though both of them were now out of sight, as you stood at the doorway of the bookstore, you could feel your guiding star still gleaming brightly in the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kind comments and Kudos. I haven't really published online any big fanfiction since.... well, let's just say Return of the King fanfiction was all the rage, and people used to like inserting author comments in the story itself (and no, before you ask, I don't remember my fanfiction.net account, so you'll never find my Star Wars self insert!). So yeah, I've been lurking around the fanfic community for a long time. It's been a pleasure to write something and get such a nice reaction from everyone. 
> 
> As for the future; I still have some one shot stories in this timeline that are bouncing around in my head, as well as some that follow canon more closely. While a majority is Vergil centric, some will star Dante from Devil may Cry™ Here's to hoping I can get back into writing.
> 
> Oh, and funny thing I found out while writing, Polaris, The North Star (apologies to my south hemisphere readers) isn't one star. It's a triple star system. Unintended, but heartwarming bit of a revelation.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll admit, I haven't played the older DMC games for nearly a decade, and only fairly recently became enamoured with the game lore. My memory of Fortuna's culture is pretty rusty, so I was pretty vague on details.
> 
> But what's even rustier is my writing skills. This story is probably the biggest thing I've written in nearly fifteen years. But two of my favourite things in the DMC fanfiction community are the:  
Vergil/Reader fics  
AU Dad Vergil taking care of his kid
> 
> Two delicious flavours combined! Although the first chapter doesn't show either.


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